


Walt Whitman's Words of Wisdom

by NecklaceOfDiamondsAndPearls



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Gift Fic, M/M, Secret Santa, oh my
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NecklaceOfDiamondsAndPearls/pseuds/NecklaceOfDiamondsAndPearls
Summary: A Secret Santa gift for the legendaryMegaseedon Twitter!Prompt requested:"Something related to the original series, analyzing plot and character psychology."Over and over again, Morty would offer himself. Over and over again, Rick would deny him. Dismiss him. Still desire him.Rick shuddered.Booze. Now. He needed booze now.I hope I did your prompt justice, Megaseed! Happy holidays to you and everyone who sees this!
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69
Collections: Rick and Morty Secret Santa 2020





	Walt Whitman's Words of Wisdom

**Author's Note:**

> **_PLEASE READ:_** One kink that was specified in the prompt was cumflation. Please consider this, and the fact Morty's age is clearly stated as **_fourteen_** before reading. The incest warning could probably go without saying, but it's here just in case. If either of these things make you uncomfortable, don't scroll any further. Safe reading and happy holidays!! ^-^

**_Do I contradict myself?_ **  
**_Very well then I contradict myself,_ **  
**_(I am large, I contain multitudes.)_ **  
**_-Walt Whitman, "Song Of Myself"_ **

As time bled itself back into existence, Rick was met with a pounding within his skull. There was too much light, his ears felt like they were filled with cotton balls, and something heavy sprawled across his naked chest. Not the same constant pressure of past mistakes, more of a physical weight. Something almost crushing; but something warm and comforting.

The genius took care with opening his eyes. First one and then the other, squinting as a sickly green light emitted from machinery around the room. His room. Rick sighed in relief as he finally got his bearings, but that pressure was still on his chest. And now that he was awake, he realized the pressure continued. Across his chest, against his hip, and along his thighs. He was in bed with someone. He was holding someone.

Drunken one night stands were a common occurrence in Rick's life, but he had never brought one back home. Into his room… his domain. Rick began to shift, hangover be damned. He gathered his strength and prepared to push the other body off of his, only to find a very familiar face.

Morty.

Thoughts came to a screeching halt as foggy alcohol-laden memories of yesterday evening started to resurface.

Rick remembered himself and Morty returning from that disaster of an... _adventure_ with the Vindicators, and even though Rick had drunk himself into a stupor the night before; he needed another drink. Then another.

And then another.

By the time his perpetual pain in the ass came to the garage to question their _adventure_ ; Rick was already wasted and couldn't handle Morty's snarky, confident _"I love you too."_

Rick remembered shoving Morty to the ground, screaming that the little fucker didn't know anything about love. That it was just a basic chemical reaction. And even if it was more than that, Morty couldn't possibly understand the gut-wrenching pain that came with watching the one you love slip away from you. And then the son of a bitch had the audacity to stand and say _"I'm not going anywhere. You won't let me."_

The world had begun to sway.

How dare he. How dare he! Rick had seen nothing but red as he gripped Morty by his thin arms and pinned him to the wall. How _dare_ Morty try to be perceptive. No one could get inside Rick fucking Sanchez's head and just walk away. 

Rick had every intention to hurt him. To cut the kid with words as sharp as Morty's proclamation that the Vindicators were his heroes. Rick wanted Morty to feel the same emptiness and loneliness that Rick refused to admit he felt in his own chest.

Instead, Rick kissed him.

Not gentle, only teeth and tongue that ripped and prodded at virginal flesh. Morty's cries did nothing to stop the old genius from marking what belonged to him; and the yelp that escaped those abused lips when Rick grabbed hold of the little shit's traitorously hard prick only spurred him on to take. To own.

And now the morning found grandfather and grandson curled up in Rick's room on that tiny, useless cot.

The cloying smell of sex reeked every corner, and Morty's skin was tight with dried cum against Rick's palm. 

He had fucked his grandson. 

He had claimed Morty in a bestial way, with bodily fluids and words fused against a scratched and bitten back. The picture of debauchery they must have made quickly flashed across Rick's mind, and the old genius wanted to vomit as his cock stirred in interest.

He had to leave.

Rick wiggled his way out from under Morty; scrambling for his flask and, less importantly, his clothes as he stumbled his way to the door. 

Morty's small voice was the only thing to stop his escape.

"Whatever bad thing you think you've done, y-you're wrong. Come back to bed."

Oh, how he wanted to. Rick was never the one to pass up engagement in, by the planetary mindset, anything immoral. He spun around to face Morty, intent on telling him so, only to stop short. The sneer curling Rick's lips fell as he took in the sight of Morty in his poor excuse of a bed. Wrapped up in his blanket. Youthful neck branded with impressions of _his_ teeth.

The kid was too young for this.

He was too pure for this.

"Rick, please. Come back to me. Just don't think about it."

The elder felt his stomach twist as Morty used his life philosophy against him. There would always be a part of Rick that wanted to drag Morty into the shadows of misery with him. There was an even bigger part that would let the shadows engulf Morty slowly; an insidious creeping around the teen's edges, taking little pieces of him at a time. 

But the biggest part of Rick?

Couldn't turn Morty into himself.

The kid was worth more than that.

It took all of Rick's minuscule willpower not to slam the door on his way out.

* * *

Booze. Rick needed booze. No, what he _needed_ was a sedative strong enough to drop a herd of elephants, but booze could work too. Anything to keep his mind from straying to what was haphazardly the first… _anniversary_ of him fucking his grandson. A full God damn year…

The night in question was still a haze to the genius, only gauzy memories that valiantly fought their way through the substance abuse wasteland that was Rick's brain. But it was the entire year that followed which terrified Rick to no end.

Morty didn't want to stop… whatever the hell had happened between them.

Mission after mission, day after day; the little shit wouldn't stop throwing himself at Rick. Like that sneaky kiss Morty tried to give him behind Jessica's back after reuniting toxic Morty with the rest. Or the proposition to let Morty blow him after they bailed on hunting Googas for the President.

And how could Rick forget the aftermath of, what he had begun to label, the Heists From Hell? How could he forget the sight of Morty stripping himself bare in the spaceship, babbling about pointless scripts and how Rick is all he'd want forever…

Over and over again, Morty would offer himself. Over and over again, Rick would deny him. Dismiss him. Still desire him.

Rick shuddered.

Booze. Now. He needed booze _now_.

Redoubling his efforts, Rick closed the hallway closet Beth used to keep her stash in and headed downstairs to the kitchen. While her drinking had cut back significantly after the Smith family gave a second chance to being whole, Rick knew Beth kept a bottle or two of wine around for special occasions. It wouldn't do much for Rick, but it was better than nothing.

The feel of cool glass against fingertips snapped Rick out of his thoughts. Rick let out a quick huff of success before he stood up on tiptoes and retrieved his temporary relief that was hidden atop the refrigerator near the back. This wasn't nearly as impressive as the other places Beth had hidden alcohol, but fitting. A weak spot for a weak thing. 

Rick popped the cork and took a drink, willing himself not to choke on the irony.

Another shudder ran through him as the memory of Morty after their... _great heist_ flashed across his mind's eye. That particular incident had only happened two weeks ago, and the pang of desperation Rick had felt was stinging. Icy yet feverish in its intensity. Rick was his closest to giving in at that moment...

Swallowing another mouthful of wine and self-loathing, Rick took one step towards the garage only to be intercepted by Beth.

"Oh h-hey, sweetie. D'ya need something?"

Rick didn't miss her pointed look to the bottle in his hand before she sighed. "Yeah, dad… I do."

Rick knew what was coming. 

As if just thinking about it had manifested a conversation he didn't want to have. Especially with Beth. Still, he carried on, clenching his jaw and weathering through her questions. 

Accusations. 

She believed that Morty would have landed that Netflix deal if Rick would have just continued to leave him alone to write. She claimed the only reason Morty didn't succeed was because Rick distracted him on purpose.

Rick scoffed.

He stuttered his way through an answer by asking Beth what he could have gained from that. He asked Beth that if Morty was unhappy on a mission, then wouldn't the mission fail? And why would he set himself or Morty up that way?

Rick put on a wonderful show.

He laughed in his daughter's face and declared that he could do any mission on his own; and besides, the adventure that kicked off the Heists From Hell was Morty's idea anyway. Little did he know Morty sat in the living room, listening to his performance.

And seeing right behind the curtain.

An hour later, Morty stormed into the garage positively fuming. His little fists struck Rick's back as he yelled, flinging insults and asking why until Rick pushed him away. Morty ended up sprawled out on the garage floor, and Rick was forced to swallow back the disorienting sense of déjà vu crawling up his throat.

They've been in this situation before.

Only last time, Morty's eyes weren't brimming with tears.

"Y-y-you piece of shit, Rick! How could you do that to me? Are you so scared of being alone you'd ruin my life for companionship? But too fucking proud to just say you need me? Y-you old fucking drunk!"

Rick had expected himself to see red. But he couldn't see anything.

Rick had gone temporarily blind.

Morty's words had struck more than a nerve; they had struck flame to a pile of gasoline-soaked rags. Indignation took the forefront of his mind, and Rick found himself running on autopilot. He didn't know what he was doing until the world began to spin back into focus around him, the feel of Morty's windpipe under his palm the thing to anchor him back to reality. He was choking Morty out. And the little shit was completely relaxed underneath him, eyes reflecting something that could only be described as frustrated understanding.

Morty was aware that Rick could kill him, but knew Rick wouldn't do so.

Too bad Rick didn't have the same belief in himself… He was devilishly talented at ruining anything good.

"I'd suggest for your safety that you get the fuck out of here, kid."

"Then let me go." Came a gasped retort.

Somewhere in the logical part of Rick's mind, he knew that Morty meant for him to release the teen's throat. But Morty had a knack for making Rick rather illogical.

His grip tightened.

The morning found grandfather and grandson back on that tiny cot.

This time, however, they were both awake; and Morty couldn't stop caressing the bruises Rick had left behind along his jaw and throat. The teen wore them like a badge of honor, and Rick couldn't stop himself from pulling Morty into a deceptively gentle kiss. Reward for a job well done.

The taste of Rick's own cum lingered on Morty's tongue; resounding proof that getting skull-fucked was a far better use of the kid’s mouth than arguing. Reminding.

* * *

Even with the hum of Rick's soldering gun and the sparking of metal, it was too quiet. It felt off. The genius lifted his safety glasses and glanced around the garage.

He was alone.

That wasn't completely abnormal. He'd often be left to his own devices while Morty and Summer did homework, or when Beth had a shift at the horse hospital.

But the crushing silence that was now in the garage didn't usually permeate into the house. Rick couldn't hear the clinking of dishes, scuffing of shoes, even the voices of sibling rivalry or a marriage that Rick still believed hung on by a thread.

It was so damn quiet.

Rick sneered before throwing his soldering gun and glasses down and leaving the garage. The Smith family wasn't making noise, and Rick was smart enough to get the hint. Something must be wrong.

Making his way into the empty kitchen, Rick peeked around the corner into the dining room. That was empty too. His feeling of unease growing, Rick entered the living room.

Empty.

The television was off, and the coffee table was free of school books, Beth's purse, or even the glass of half-finished juice Jerry would often leave behind after lunch. 

Rick clenched his jaw as he checked one of his many watches. It was three forty-five. Still too early for Beth to be home, but Jerry didn't have a job. Where was he? And what about the kids? Summer could still be out with friends, but by now Morty should be home; pointless drivel about the woes of high school filling up this aggravating, unsettling, _endless_ silence.

Rick made his way upstairs, not bothering with Beth and Jerry or Summer's room. If shit really had hit the fan, they were replaceable. Twisting the knob to Morty's door with more force than was necessary, Rick flung the door open…

And was met with an infuriatingly comfortable sight.

Morty was home, seemingly had been for a while, lounging across his bed with headphones in and lost within the screen of his phone. Rick's relief was short-lived as irritation began to bloom in his chest, however; and the genius stalked his way over to Morty's bed before tugging on the headphones' cord to dislodge them.

Ignoring the teen's yelp of surprise, Rick crossed his arms and arched a brow. "Well hey there, stranger. Did you ever plan on telling anyone you're home?"

"W-what do you mean? There was no one to tell." Morty pouted, rubbing at his ear. "Summer's with a study group, a-and mom got off early so she and dad could go- could make time for a date."

"And you couldn't tell me because…?"

"Why would you want to know?"

Rick’s sharp laugh was coated in disbelief as he stared down at his grandson. For over a fucking year, the kid had been a constant thorn in Rick's side. Not just following as Rick dragged him into an adventure, but actively seeking Rick out. Throwing himself at Rick even as the genius pushed him away and accepted him back every time. Why was _now_ when Morty chose to leave him alone?

Rick froze.

A flicker of an idea, sparking just like his soldering gun, lit Rick's mind. It wasn't hard for anyone to guess Rick Sanchez hated quiet. Stillness. The numerous explosions he had been the cause of was proof enough. He was a being of chaos, creating and destroying for the hell of it because what else was the smartest thing in the multiverse to do? He was a walking oxymoron, layers of sarcasm and nihilism keeping him hidden. Except from the one thing in the vast universe able to pinpoint his black and white from all the manufactured grey.

And it was staring back at him with a challenge in its emerald gaze. Daring him to face what he wanted head on.

Morty had set him up.

The little bastard must have seen the shift in Rick's demeanor, opening his mouth to say something.

Rick spun around and took a step towards the door, ignoring the sound of sheets rustling as Morty made a frantic attempt to stand.

"I won't chase after you, Rick. Don't you get exhausted by always pretending like you don't care? Y-you make the first move this time. I… I can't keep doing this by myself."

 _Then don't_ balanced precariously on the tip of Rick's tongue. Instead he slammed Morty's door hard enough for hairline cracks to appear in the wood before slinking back into the garage.

For once, Rick sought out quiet.

* * *

"I thought you said you weren't gonna chase after me?"

Thirty minutes later and the kid already said fuck it to his own plan? Rick kept that thought to himself, however. Especially since he wanted to march back into Morty's room just after storming out. 

When did he start acting like some dramatic teen who thought Romeo and Juliet were the epitome of romance?

_Most likely after you fucked a fourteen year old._

Rick's mental reprimand came to a stop as he felt thin arms wrap around his torso; small and delicate hands rested on his chest, each far from being able to reach the other. 

Rick's own hands covered them completely... 

God damn it, Morty was just so fucking _breakable_.

"I-I'm not." The teen sighed, nuzzling between Rick's shoulder blades. "I walked down here."

"Funny. And all that talk about making the first move?"

"Do you want me to let go?"

Rick's grip tightened.

"That's not what I meant, shithead."

Morty laughed then, the rumble of it from within the teen's chest radiating against Rick's back.

He'd never admit to how warm it made him feel.

Morty sighed again, a small puff of his breath ruffling Rick's hair. "I'm not here to do anything. O-other than be near you."

Rick trapped a growl between gnashing teeth, trying his best not to think of how much of Morty he had already damaged with close proximity.

"You of all people should know how fucking dangerous that is."

"I do."

The genius let go of Morty's hands and spun his seat around without warning, forcing the teen to stumble a few steps back. He was shirtless, the presumptuous little fuck. A trait Rick had no doubt that Morty had inherited from himself.

The kid was sapping his strength. "Then stop it."

"Tell me to stop."

"Damn it, Morty! I just di-"

"No!"

Grandfather and grandson could only stare at each other. Morty had never sounded so… agonized.

"I know all the reasons this shouldn't happen. We're related, I'm underaged, y-y-you're fucking psychotic! But if this isn't what you _want_ , just say that. Don't list off reasons why you _shouldn't_ want it. Because when you stop trying to fool everyone, w-when you let me in, I can't stop loving the person I see.”

The genius felt his stomach twist at the dreaded L word, but took his opening. One last cruel attempt to dissuade the inevitable.

"Ugh. This again? Love isn't real, Morty! I-it's familiarity over time. It's-"

"A chemical reaction that compels animals to breed." The teen snapped.

"Yeah, I get it, Rick. So what was the chemical that _compelled_ you to murder the Vindicators because I laughed at their jokes instead of yours? A-and don't even try to say alcohol. That's an excuse, not an answer."

"O-oh, while we're at it… what was the chemical that _compelled_ you to orchestrate the single most convoluted heist of all time… just to make me lose interest in something I was giving more time than you?"

"How about taking me away from our Cronenberged reality with you? Or helping me get Fart to... safety? What chemical fucking _compels_ you to keep me around when there are billions of other Morties out there?"

Morty's voice began to crack, and Rick felt that beaten and calloused thing in his chest begin to fissure as well. "M-morty…"

"Don't. Just… I meant what I said, I'm not chasing after you. I-I'm done with you playing vague. Either make the first move, or tell me you don't care and let me move on."

Grandfather and grandson regarded each other once more, the teen's eyes filling with resignation. Morty turned to leave the garage, and a primal part of Rick kicked in; urging him out of his seat and behind Morty in record time to slam his hand on the door. 

Preventing escape.

Morty faced him, pressing back against the door and having to look up to meet Rick's gaze. Confusion knitted the teen's brow as surprise parted his lips. "R-Rick? What are-"

"I didn't murder the Vindicators." Rick growled, gripping Morty's jaw and angling his head even further back; exposing the teen's throat and savoring the sight of his fluttering pulse. "I made traps. And they were too far up their own asses to figure them out. But not you, Morty. You found the solutions without even trying."

"I didn't let the Gromphlomites catch you with that sentient cloud of annoyance because they would have murdered you just for knowing I exist. And they would have taken days to finish as penance for being related to me."

Rick slid the tip of his thumb along the teen's bottom lip. "I'm a bastard, Morty. But I can spot cruel and unusual punishment, and the Federation are masters at it."

"As for why I don't just abandon you for another Morty, it's because none of them are _you_. None of them can make it far with a Rick like me." 

_None of them could care about a Rick like me._

"None of them drive me up the fucking wall like you do." Rick illustrated his point by lifting Morty, gripping the kid under his arms and raising him eye level. Pinning him against the wall. "And none of them are _mine_."

Rick closed his eyes as Morty's fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck and thin legs wrapped around his waist, a whispered breath ghosting across the elder's lips. "Rick…"

A kiss. Not the ravenous hunger with which Rick had taken the teen's mouth the first time; but soft and slow. Rick trailed Morty's bottom lip with his tongue and happily let the slick muscle slide in as the teen parted for him. Surrendered to him.

Gifted him.

And Rick took. With lingering touches to Morty's bottom, small of his back, across his chest. Anywhere Rick could reach as he plundered the pliant flesh beneath him.

As they parted, Morty whined and sucked on Rick's tongue. Not willing to completely sever their connection yet, and the genius groaned his agreement. Rick tightened his grip around Morty's middle with one arm as he blindly felt his lab coat for the portal gun. Once found, Rick shot an egress into the wall behind them; falling through it, they landed side by side on that tiny, useless cot.

The teen eagerly crawled atop Rick, leaning over for another kiss only to have a calloused hand press against his mouth. The sharp edge of lust weakened in Morty's eyes, and Rick could swear he felt Morty's mouth form a pout.

"I'm not- I can't-" Rick's stutter was back full force, his words tangling in a knot at the back of his throat. Rick clenched his jaw and swallowed it. "I won't stay away from you, Morty. Not again. If we go through with this, I'll keep you forever."

Turning his hand to cup the back of Morty's head, Rick tugged him close; their lips brushing together as Rick spoke. "Y-you'll belong only to me, Morty."

"I already do." Morty whispered before lightly nipping Rick's bottom lip.

Three little words and Rick's emotional dam broke.

Growling, he sank his fingers into chestnut curls and gripped tightly; smashing their mouths together for an indelicate meeting of teeth and tongue. 

Morty melted against him, rolling his hips in languid circles that left Rick hard as stone and breathless. The elder let himself enjoy the feel of Morty writhing against him for a moment before gripping those wonderfully sinful hips and flipping them over; Rick pinned Morty's wrists above the teen's head and found himself aching to bite. To stake a claim.

Morty, ever observant in all things Rick Sanchez, must have seen the want in the elder's eyes; and he tipped his head back, offering his neck.

Rick surprised himself with leaving nothing but soft kisses behind.

Morty's soft hum of confusion morphed into a groan of passion as Rick tugged his jeans and boxers off with a quick yank, leaving the teen's twitching member on display.

Even though Rick had to remove his lips and hands from Morty to undress himself, his eyes never left the lithe form of his grandson. Rick couldn't help but ogle the boy as he shrugged off his lab coat and sweater, watching with rapt attention as the teen's torso flushed bright red; the color blooming like a field of roses.

Rick couldn't find it in himself to hate the cliche simile.

The genius unfastened his belt and pulled it through the loops of his trousers, smirking as the hiss of leather over cloth made Morty's pupils dilate. Something they would no doubt have fun exploring later, but for now Rick quickly finished divesting himself and found his place back beside Morty. Both groaned as they met skin to skin, desperate hands finding purchase on the only surface that kept them sane _and_ crazed. Each other.

Rick stole one more kiss before rummaging in his bedside drawer for lube, leaving Morty to get up onto his knees and resting his shoulders on the cot. Rick shuddered as he turned back around and took in the sight of his grandson presenting himself, a reminder that this has happened before. That it would happen again. Solid proof that Rick was undeniably, hopelessly… _attached_ to Morty, even in all the wrong ways.

Another mass formed at the back of Rick's throat as tears began to sting behind his eyes. "N-not like thi- we can… j-just turn on your back, Morty. Let grandpa see you."

Morty flashed a small smile as he rolled over, smile spreading into a bright grin as Rick placed a pillow underneath the teen's hips and gently pushed his thighs apart. Not that the genius would ever admit to being gentle in anything he did. But of everything they had done, this was the first time they had done it face to face. The first time Rick could watch them connect instead of forcing them to collide. He'd never admit to it, but he'd take his time now. He'd be gentle. He'd make Morty feel loved in a way Rick couldn't express with banal words.

Easing a slicked finger into Morty's entrance, the genius lavished attention on the rest of Morty's body. Teasing his nipples to hardened points with teeth and tongue, mimicking the thrusts of his finger with a thrust of his tongue as he captured Morty in a kiss; from navel to ear, Rick licked and bit his way up Morty's body, unaware that he couldn't stop whispering _Mi ángel_ against Morty's temple. The gruff sound of Rick slipping into Spanish wracked the boy's thin body with shudders, leaving him mewling as Rick worked a second finger inside. Morty's erection waned at the stretch, and the elder took it into his mouth, pressing the flat of his tongue to its underside and hollowing his cheeks. Rick met the bucking of Morty's hips with a bob of his head, teasing the boy's erection back to life with firm suction and flicks of his tongue against the weeping tip.

Rick had just finished working a third finger inside Morty's tight channel, barely grazing his prostate when the teen finally snapped. He gripped a handful of ice blue hair and tugged, pulling Rick off of his length and screaming that he couldn't take anymore.

"P-please, Rick… it's been too long. Just fuck me!"

Rick smirked as he applied lube to his own cock, the shaft pulsating at the softest of touch.

"What's the matter… what's wrong, Morty? Too sensitive for a little foreplay?" Rick teased as he slipped his hands under Morty's knees and pressed them against his thin chest.

Morty gave a smirk of his own as he reached between his thighs, small hand taking hold of Rick's member and guiding it to his opening. "O-oh, I can handle foreplay. But after over a year's worth of it, y-you just look like an old cockblock. Fuck. Me."

Rick snarled.

Snapping his hips forward hard enough to bottom out in one stroke, Rick felt rather than heard Morty's shriek; the boy's body convulsing and edging up the cot as if the small mattress itself wanted to pull Morty away from him. Not that Rick would let it. Rick would destroy the universe before anyone or thing took Morty from him again.

Rick wrapped his arms under Morty's back, his hands gripping Morty's shoulders and tugging him down to lay flush against the cradle of Rick's hips. His thrusts were short, snappish things; keeping him buried in Morty's warmth as he growled promises, threats to others, even confessions into the teen's ear. The genius felt insane, the grip of Morty's walls around his shaft a better high than any drug; and even more disorienting. It took Rick a long moment to realize that the sound over his thundering heartbeat and slapping of flesh was a warbling, high-pitched wail from Morty. The kid was crying his name.

"R-r-rick! Rick! Aaah, look!"

Rick groaned, unwilling to part with Morty now that they were so close, practically inseparable. It was only Morty's whimpered _Look at what you do to me_ that made him pause, pulling away and letting his eyes travel down to the same spot between them that Morty was staring at.

"Oh, _God_." Rick gasped.

Morty's belly was distended slightly, a phallic-shaped protrusion moved within him in time with Rick's thrusts.

"Oh fuck… that's m-… ah, _fuck_!" Rick gave up on speech in favor of resting his forehead against Morty's, sharing breath and kisses as Rick tried to wrap his mind around just what exactly he was seeing. "Did it… did this happen before?"

"Yes."

Morty's blissful smile made Rick's knees go weak, having no choice but to press his full weight on top of Morty as they rutted against each other. He felt his own cock shift inside the boy, and Rick couldn't function anymore.

Rick used the last of his strength to ask Morty where he wanted Rick to cum, unable to restrain the animal-like groan that ripped its way out of his throat when Morty responded "I-in me!"

Gripping Morty's prick and pumping once, twice; Morty came all over Rick's hand. Teenage virility pushing Morty over the cliff's edge, and the tightening of his muscles pulling Rick right behind him; milking the elder of everything he could give. With each shift of his own hips, Rick shivered and pumped Morty full; so full that He could feel the sticky mess he was making of the boy as his spunk began to trickle out around Morty's abused rim. But Rick kept going, his consciousness flickering as he rode out the longest orgasm of his life.

Rick came down slowly, trying to move off of Morty before he crushed him, but the boy wouldn't release the hold he had on Rick's neck. "M-morty, you're gonna kill this old man. Let me lay down."

"B-but it's so warm."

Huffing, Rick untangled himself and carefully slipped his spent manhood from the teen, intent on telling him they'd be just as warm after they covered up. But the well of biting words ran dry as he pulled back and saw what Morty really meant.

The outline of Rick's cock may have been gone but Morty's belly was still distended, even more so now. And the kid was tense, his thighs pressed close together and laying as still as he could. Rick ran his hand lightly over the noticeable bulge and almost choked on the air he gasped.

Morty was full of... _him_. 

The very essence of his being.

Nothing short of carving his name into Morty's flesh could mark him as Rick's deeper than this, and that thought alone made Rick wish he were just twenty years younger. He'd keep going. Pumping Morty full until the teen could _taste_ him...

 _Fun for another day_ Rick promised himself as he bundled Morty up in his blanket and stood, lifting Morty with him and heading for the bathroom as he consoled the teen; telling him it was okay to relax, that Rick would clean him and they'd rest up together. 

Morty still looked so damn breakable, and Rick couldn't help but think about lingering doubt, unsayable things… all the ways he was terrible for this little bundle of light in his arms...

There would always be a part of Rick that wanted to drag Morty into the shadows of misery with him. There was an even bigger part that would let the shadows engulf Morty slowly; an insidious creeping around the teen's edges, taking little pieces of him at a time. 

But the biggest part of Rick?

Couldn't… _wouldn't_ turn Morty into himself.

The kid was worth more than that.

Morty was worth everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to visit Megaseed's twitter listed in the summary! As well as checking me out on Tumblr: @necklace-of-sin. And now also on Twitter: @StoryStringing. Please feel free to leave criticism/corrections of grammatical or spelling errors, it helps ^-^ Happy Holidays everybody!!!


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